


You

by oswhine



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oswhine/pseuds/oswhine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>set post Sleep No More - Clara and the Doctor visit a legit space restaurant, but never actually order any food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You

“Happy?” He held his arm out, gesturing at the star-scattered sky outside the window. It looked to Clara like she could reach out and touch it, scoop up a handful of stars, glittering and blinding in her palm. “You’ve got your space restaurant now.” 

“Very.” She smiled, chin resting on her hand. The Doctor was just as fascinating as infinite expanse of space just outside the window. His mind was as vast and complicated as the universe he explored in his blue box. 

He looked away, uncomfortable under her gaze. “So, what are you going to order? Space soup? A space sandwich?” 

“Don’t be silly, it’s only a space restaurant. They don’t serve space food. No freeze-dried ice cream here.” She was toying with him, enjoying the down time before she next feared for her life. 

“Oh, well, what do you define as space food? Food that’s physically floating in space? Star-sprinkled cookies?” 

“I was just joking, Doctor,” she said, reaching out for his hand. She rested hers upon his, the veined skin reflecting all the years. All the heartbreak. 

“So was I.” 

“Were you? It’s so hard to tell sometimes.” 

“I suppose you’ll want a time lord guide book for Christmas,” he said, his thumb rubbing against the side of her hand, gentle, as if she were as precious to him as the TARDIS, as the one thing, other than his wanderlust, that had been with him from the very beginning. 

“That would be nice, yes. When is Christmas? Have we gone past that already?” 

“Whenever you like,” he said, finally allowing her a smile, so rare that they always made her that much happier to actually see one. Usually he was frowning, keeping secret worries from her. A smile was open. It was something you shared with the person you gave it to. And that person was her. “It could be Christmas every day, if that’s what you want.” 

“No,” she said, “That would spoil it. Christmas is too special to happen every day.” 

“You’re right, as always.” 

“It’s nice to see you admit it,” she laughed lightly. 

“Always so modest.” 

“Just like you, then.” 

They were interrupted by a black and white clad waiter, his neat bowtie producing different feelings in both Clara and the Doctor. 

“Are you ready to order?” 

Clara realised she hadn’t even glanced at the menu, too caught up in her conversation with the Doctor. “Can we have a few more minutes?” 

“Of course.” He bowed and disappeared silently. 

She pressed her lips together, studying the menu. For a restaurant that’s slogan was ‘Food that’s out of this world - literally!’ the choices seemed pretty basic. Pizza, pasta, steak. She glanced up from her menu and watched the Doctor read his, his brow furrowed. He was no longer the handsome young man she’d once known, but there was still something about him that pulled her in. Something she couldn’t name. 

“Doctor,” she said softly. 

“Yes?” He looked up to see her looking at him, her face warmed by the candlelight, earrings and eyes catching the light and sparkling more than the stars outside. “You look sentimental, Clara.” 

“I am.”

“What are you thinking about?” His eyes looked steadily into hers. 

“You.” 

He blinked. All the analyzing of her facial expressions, all the knowledge in the universe couldn’t have prepared him for that. “Why?” 

“Do you ever know why you think of something? It just comes into your mind, uninvited. But sometimes welcome.” 

“I don’t quite know what you mean,” he said, setting his menu down. 

“You don’t? The most intelligent man in the universe?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say _that_ -” 

“Modesty, that’s new.” 

He looked at her, those round, caring eyes, the touch of dimples bracketing her smile, and he was about to say something when the waiter returned. 

“Have you two decided?” 

“Do we look like we’ve decided?” The Doctor snapped, a little annoyed at the way he kept returning with that expectant look on his face, and that reminder of his old self round his neck. 

“I’m sorry sir, I’d just thought, because you’d put down your menu - “ the waiter stumbled, but Clara helped him: 

“Sorry about him, he can be a grumpy old man sometimes. We just need a few more minutes, thanks. We’ll catch your eye when we’re ready.” 

“Alright.” 

The Doctor’s mood had changed completely from when the waiter had first bumped his hip against the table. His arms were crossed, his face closed. Clara wondered what he’d been about to say. 

“I think the ravioli looks good, don’t you?” She asked, scanning the menu again. 

“No.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t sulk. We’re at a space restaurant! No one’s trying to kill us!” She nudged his foot under the table and his shoulders relaxed a little. “If you could have anything to eat right now, what would it be?” She said, leading him into her trap. And it worked: 

“I had this really good ice cream on Pluto once. Funny place - “ he spiralled into a story, losing himself and his bad mood inside it, just as she’d hoped. 

“Unfortunately, Pluto ice cream isn’t on the menu - “ 

“You don’t call it Pluto ice cream, Clara. Would you call ice cream on Earth ‘Earth ice cream?’ Of course not. It - ” 

“We’re not starting this again, are we? Just decide on what you want before I flounce out of the restaurant dramatically.” 

“Alright, boss. The seafood.” 

“That’s a sharing platter, isn’t it? Who are you going to share it with” She asked teasingly. 

“You.” 

She blinked, leaning back. She seemed to understand the word had more weight than food choices. He was afraid he’d got it all wrong. This was the end. Clara wouldn’t leave with a bang, an explosion, but because he’d messed up. 

“Clara, I - “ he tried. 

“No, it’s alright. You don’t have to say anything.” She looked at him, tilting her head to the side. 

“Is it?” 

“It is.” Her hand reached out again, eased his tense fist open so that his palm was facing the ceiling, and placed her own palm against it. “More than alright. This is what I want.” She squeezed his hand. 

A smile broke over his face, one that took over his entire face. “You know, I’m not feeling so hungry anymore.” As he spoke, he didn’t lose the smile. 

She grinned back, her eyes sparkling. “Funny, neither do I. And once you’ve seen one space restaurant, you’ve seen them all.” 

“Shall we go?” 

“Always.” 

They stood up in unison and walked past their disappointed waiter out of the restaurant, hand in hand.


End file.
